


For Granted

by OpticalCrown



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, i guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 18:41:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11469414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OpticalCrown/pseuds/OpticalCrown
Summary: In which Shiro realizes something terrible.





	For Granted

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this post: https://twitter.com/xfwipsx/status/884097289924390914   
> (With their permission of course!)

Shiro only asks for Lance’s help because Keith’s leg is injured.

It’s nothing that Altean medicine can’t fix in a day or two, but this mission is unfortunately on a time limit. Hunk’s Bayard is too flashy, and while Pidge is both agile and adaptive, even she would have trouble on her own in a base full of soldiers.

So that leaves Lance.

“Sir yes sir!” he chirps jokingly, but the moment they’re on the base, he quiets down and starts searching for the set location while Shiro acts at the decoy. The whole thing happens without a hitch to Shiro’s surprise, save for the fact that Lance is sprawled over Shiro and shoving his head down into the ditch when the bomb goes off. Lance puts his shield up right before the debris rains down. It clatters all over and around them, but they’re both safe, and Shiro’s starting to think that having Lance on this mission wasn’t that bad at all. They’re tired, dirty, and sweaty, but Lance is cackling loudly the whole time. With their helmets are pressed together, the boy’s bright smile is as clear as day to Shiro.

“We did it!” Lance cheers, and Shiro also thinks that having this sort of laughter and these smiles on a mission is awfully nice. How did he never notice that before?

 

The first time that it happens, it’s to be expected, Lance thinks. Keith can’t run around right now, and he’ll be damned if he throws Pidge or Hunk into that sort of mess. So of course, Shiro picks him. It wasn’t too bad, all things considered, but he does regret making them both eat dirt when the explosion went off. The second time takes him by some surprise.

“Lance, you’re up.”

He blinks a few times, then looks up, broken out of whatever daydream’s he was in.

“Huh?”

Shiro looks over his blank face with some concern.

“You’re up. We’ll hold your cover while you snipe down the transmitters.”

“Uh, sure! I got it!” he says, slapping a palm on his chest and throwing on a big grin as fast as he can. Shiro smiles warmly, and Lance instinctively leans back.

“Great. We’re counting on you.”

He’s gotta be dreaming, right? Shiro’s counting on him – his _hero’s_ counting on him! It’s sort of horrible, but he’s can’t help but feel excited to go into this life or death battle, and sure the bubbles in his chest make him miss a shot or two, but once the fuzziness has soured off he’s whooping and hollering every time a new transmitter goes down.

He’s losing feeling in his hands, his head throbs, and his vision is finally beginning to blur, but he can’t give up now. For a few moments, he indulges himself, breathing hard and seething as his fingers automatically convulse and curl in. The sounds of fighting from below tell him his time is up, and he steadies his aim and holds his breath. The transmitter flicks to and fro, and his head is beginning to go light, but still he waits it out.

At just the right moment, he pulls the trigger, and the transmitter explodes into particles of metal.

“That’s the last one! We’re done! Am I good or am I _good_?” he gloats.

“Pfft, if your head gets any bigger it’ll explode,” Pidge giggles.

“C’mon, admit it. I did _awesome_ ,” he argues, the yellow lights of his helmet flashing.

“You still missed a couple shots.”

“Keith, don’t rain on my parade!”

“I think that was pretty awesome.”

“Hah, thanks Hunk.”

As usual, they change out of their suits once they’re back on the ship, but Lance’s can feel his fingers fumbling for clasps and seams. He takes a deep breath and rests his head on the cool metal of the changing room. Nothing to it; he’s just a bit exhausted. After this, maybe a nap would do him some good. He leaves the changing room, somewhat lagging behind the others. The Castle is always nice and cool, and the thin mattresses feel like heaven. He can just imagine his stiff body cuddling up in a comforter and slightly sinking into that gel bed, when he slams into what feels like a padded brick wall.

“Woah! You alright?”

The voice sends a shiver up Lance’s back and he abruptly pushes off Shiro’s shoulders.

“Oh crap! I’m fine, I’m fine! Are _you_ alright? I was the one who just slammed into you like that!”

Shiro just smiles and waves it off.

“I’m all good. I just wanted to tell you that you did a good job today. Even Coran and Allura were surprised at how fast we finished.”

Lance really, _really_ hopes that Shiro can’t see the blood that he feels rushing to his face right now, and he stutters and strings together some words that he hopes will turn out coherent before rushing out the door. It takes Shiro a moment to acknowledge the empty space in front of him, and when he remembers how Lance’s eyes were so blue and shining, and how his chest feels so light, he makes a mental note to praise his teammate more.

Lance curls up in his blankets, trying to sleep, even as his body desperately wants him to. This must be a dream of some sort, if Shiro is telling him to do stuff and is praising him so less.

 _It’s too good to be true_ , a voice inside him whispers.

“Shut up,” he mumbles to no one in particular, pressing his face deeper into his pillow, but he can’t fight that twinge of paranoia inside him. It really is too good to be true. 

“No, think logically,” he mutters some more, “sniping was the safest way to do it. Going in all up close and personal would’ve gotten our asses blasted.”

He smiles, satisfied with his logic, and finally drifts asleep.

 

Third time’s the charm in Lance’s opinion, and honestly this is all on him. He should’ve listened to his gut, and now his insides are clenching up in terror.

“Pidge, Keith. You both are the fastest, so we’ll be leaving retrieval up to you two.”

“Got it!”

“Roger.”

“Hunk, you’ll be in charge of sabotage. Try to get to their hangar and tamper with as many ships as possible.”

“Oh man… Okay, I got it.”

“Lance, you’ll with me. We’ll be looking for the hostages together.”

Shiro feels a sense of déjà vu as he watches Lance startle and blink a few times in surprise, but any moment now he should be hearing that loud and confident-

A sound like hissing steam merged with a shrill whistle is quickly followed by the clacking of parts, and Lance is muttering something to himself, pointing his Bayard at Shiro.

“You’re not Shiro,” he declares, his aim never wavering.

Keith nearly lunges at Lance, but Hunk moves quick and holds him back.

“Lance what the hell are you doing?!” he screams, kicking and struggling against Hunk, for all the good it’s doing. Everyone else just looks stunned.

“You should know better than anyone,” Lance snaps, “Shiro would never pick me over you for something as important as this!”

“Like hell that’s true!”

“Of course it is! Shiro trusts you the most out of all of us! There’s no way he’d ever pick me!”

Keith tries to retort, but his voice catches, and his face turns pale. He stops fighting, but Hunk doesn’t let go.

“Lance, this isn’t like you. You’re not the kinda guy to shoot first and ask questions later,” Hunk says softly.

“But this time I’m sure. Shiro would never partner with me for something like this. Something’s _wrong_.”

Lance steps in towards Shiro.

“I’ll ask again. Who are you, and where’s the real Shiro?” he snarls. The terror is spreading to his head, filling it with white noise. If this is an imposter, then they need to mount a rescue mission as soon as possible.

Hunk finally releases Keith and quietly scoots in closer, out of Lance’s field of vision. Pidge looks like she’s furiously going over calculations in her head, her eyes darting between the two.

“Lance. Are you seriously going to kill someone?” Hunk asks.

“…We’ve already killed a lot of Galra. One more, won’t tip the scales too badly, I’m guessing.”

Keith is desperately trying to signal to Shiro, but Shiro isn’t paying attention. He can’t when it feels like his insides have been scooped out and plopped in front of him. Lance’s narrowed eyes are drained of blue and look like flat, glittering chips of glass. Despite being only a trigger away from being shot, Shiro’s not afraid.

Rather, all he can feel is the guilt beginning to string red hot wires through his chest – that those glassy eyes are all his fault.

What can he say to make this right?

 _Is_ there anything that could make this right?

If nothing else, he has to apologize.

He needs to apologize no matter what.

Shiro takes a deep breath, exhaling softly.

“Lan-“

“Lance! Of _course_ Shiro would pick you!” Pidge yells shrilly. “If you guys are trying to get the hostages back, of course he’d need to bring someone that can get them to relax and follow us back right?” she blurts out, not even pausing to breathe.

“You’re just saying that to make me put down my Bayard. I’m telling you guys – this isn’t Shiro!”

“Think about it!” Pidge yells running over to Lance’s side. Lance glances down, as she’s relieved to see the doubt swirling behind them. Doubt’s a terrible look on Lance, but right now she couldn’t be happier.

“Hey, I’m the genius, remember?” she prods, cherry-picking her words. “Look at it logically. I’m right, right? You really think Shiro’s gonna grab a hot-head like Keith with him to be all patient and gentle with some terrified prisoners?”

“He would.”

 _Keep calm, keep calm_ , she thinks, even as her breathing quickens. That reason didn’t work, so she’ll just go onto the next one.

“How about this then? If that Shiro’s an imposter, then how are we all not dead right now?”

“They could sabotage this mission by bringing along someone like me instead.”

“BBut you agreed with me on that first point, right? That you’d be better choice for soothing prisoners? If that’s the case, then an imposter would only be helping out our cause.”

Like magic, life flickers back into Lance’s eyes, and they all watch with bated breath as Lance disarms his Bayard. He stares at the ground, but right when he looks up, Keith lunges in to sucker punch Lance in the face.

“What the hell, what the quiznak?! Lance, why did you just-! Didn’t you say that you were the one who kept your cool?”

Lance lays flat on the ground, staring blankly at the ceiling and trying to see how many shapes he can find before Keith realizes what he’s just done and rushes to help up Lance, together with Pidge and Hunk. He stands to side, awkwardly cradling his hands.

“Um, sorry.”

Lance stares back in confusion, then laughs.

“Nah, I totally deserved that! Thanks for knocking some sense into me.”

He turns to face Shiro, and he can’t help but wince as he sees the pain scrawled all over Shiro’s face. Who wouldn’t be freaked out if their own teammate pulled a gun on them?

“Sh-Shiro. I’m sorry. I… Er…”

“Lance.”

“Huh?”

Shiro clasps a firm palm over Lance’s shoulder.

“After this, let’s talk, alright?”

 

They barely speak the entire time during the mission, and just like Pidge says, Lance is a wonder with the hostages, some of who are only children. He jokes with them, makes of fool of himself in front of them, and completely adjusts his personality as needed to make them feel at ease, and it shows. They quickly follow the two of them, and the kids don’t cry. Rather, they bunch up behind Lance, confident that he and Shiro can keep them safe.

Lance doesn’t look like a boy who nearly shot his own teammate out of paranoia and a lack of self-worth mere hours ago. He acts like he’s never been better, and it makes Shiro wonder just how much of Lance’s acting they’ve seen.

His feet freeze. They need to keep moving, but he can’t help but stop as a terrifying thought slips past.

“Shiro?”

Lance is staring at him with wide, blue eyes, his lips just slightly turned down in a frown.

Has Shiro ever seen _Lance_?

Or is everything he knows about the boy nothing but the acts the boy puts up to make them all feel at ease? Those bright eyes and warm laughs, are they all nothing but bravado? Has he killed off the real Lance with his mistakes?

“Sorry,” Shiro eventually answers back. “Everyone, you’ll be safe soon.”

 

Lance is out like a shot when the mission is officially concluded. He showers and changes faster than anyone else before holing up in his room. Shiro’s left alone with the others, and for the first time in a while, the decisions don’t come easily.

He’s fucked up.

He’s absolutely fucked things up beyond belief, and he needs to fix this.

The wires in his chest tighten as he heads towards Lance’s room, and before he knows it, he’s knocking on the door. To his surprise, Lance almost immediately answers, face overcast and hair still dripping from his shower.

“Come in, I guess?”

Shiro nods and walks in. He expected the clutter, but he didn’t expect it to also be so… organized. There might be a corner filled with odds and ends picked up from different planets, but Shiro can confidently say that they’re chronologically ordered and only in that corner. On Lance’s desk is a whole slew of distinct types of Altean tech and stationary and tools, separated by function and origin. The rest of his room is filled and modulated in the same way. The only thing that stands out is a self-made decoration of alien shells and parts that dangles from the ceiling. The result is that Lance’s entire room is filled to the brim, yet also navigable and cozy without being overwhelming.

They settle down, Lance on the bed, Shiro on the chair. Each is silent, with averted eyes. Lance can’t help but fidget, picking at his overgrown nails. He’s smart enough to know that sometimes you need to rip off the band-aid, even if your skin and guts will come off with it. Breathing out softly through his lips, he raises his head, forcing himself not to clench his teeth when he meets Shiro’s eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry.”

Lance’s jaw drops.

That isn't supposed to happen.

Shiro is supposed to chastise him and tell him what's wrong with him. Not apologize for something this crazy that isn't even his fault.

He leaps off his bed and leans in towards Shiro, aghast.

“Dude, I nearly _shot_ you! Aren’t you pissed? You could’ve died or something, and next thing we know, Voltron’s screwed just because I went mental for a second! Why aren’t you angry?! You have every right to be!”

Lance keeps on talking in circles, trying to somehow get to a point that he can’t seem to articulate, gesturing and almost looming over Shiro, who remains quietly seated. What’s worse is that Shiro looks at him with so much _pity_ , and that kills him on the inside. He’s definitely nothing more than some weakling to Shiro now, and that means that Shiro won’t rely on him anymore, won’t praise him; in fact, he might coddle Lance like as if he’s made of glass, and just the thought makes an erratic anger burst inside him, as well as a strange longing, that maybe being spoiled by Shiro won’t be-

“-God, I’m such an asshole!” he suddenly shouts, forcing himself to cut off his own train of disgusting thoughts.

His eyes start to sting, and that telltale tickle at the back of his throat makes him sit back down. As usual, he clenches his teeth and his fists to stave off the tears, and feigns stretching his arms to hide any wetness that might be in his eyes. The “ritual” seems to work, as always, and he settles down, forcing himself to act calmer.

“At least be angry,” he grumbles at Shiro with folded arms.

His head is twisted to the side, but he still peeks at Shiro from the corner of his eyes.

Shiro’s coming towards him.

“Wha-?!”

He jerks his entire body away from the edge of the mattress, but to his relief, Shiro merely sits near him.

“Lance… Do you still think I’m an imposter?”

 

The entire time Shiro watches Lance ramble, he feels sick to his stomach. Lance talks erratically, his tone almost terrified and confused at times. He can’t seem to even comprehend that Shiro might have done him wrong, and Shiro just keeps watching, his entire body tensing as he sees no confidence or bravado in the boy’s eyes. As much as he tries, he can’t keep a blank face; the guilt steadily crawls up it. Lance leaps back, almost in terror just from him being near him.

Maybe Lance still thinks he’s been bodysnatched by the Galra?

“No, I didn’t back off ‘cuz I was scared. Just… surprised,” Lance trails off, more insightful than Shiro expected. “Though,” he continues with a sharp bark of laughter, “if you want another answer, this all still feels weird and off, and a whole lot of other stuff.”

He draws his legs up into a more comfortable position, tilting his head to the side as he mulls over his own thoughts. Shiro watches a droplet of water from Lance’s hair roll down his neck and over his collarbone, then speaks up again.

“Why are you being so honest then? From the sounds of it, logically you know I’m real, but you personally still feel uneasy. Is there any reason to be so honest while still feeling suspicious like that?”

“Because you’re ‘Shiro’!” Lance blurts. “Even if you were fake, you’re still ‘Shiro’, my hero! The guy who’s super nice and an amazing leader who’s never let us down!”

Lance realizes that he’s once more leapt in closer, and he apologizes and shrinks back to his corner of the bed. Shiro’s eyes are wide, and Lance suddenly realizes that he’s boxed himself in when Shiro scoots over.

“I… never knew you thought so highly of me,” he says, grimacing.

“It’s ‘that’ look again,” Lance pouts, pointing a long, outstretched finger at Shiro’s face. “I said something wrong again, didn’t I? You don’t look too happy.”

“Well, excuse me for not having as good of a poker face as you,” Shiro retorts to Lance’s surprise, that flawless leader look breaking for a second.

“Pffft! Yeah right! If I have a poker face, then everyone in this entire castle is a goddamn open book!”

He laughs and hugs his pillow, and Shiro relaxes as he sees that vibrant smile once more. Lance’s gaze flickers as he watches how Shiro is visibly soothed, but Shiro doesn’t notice. He still hasn’t done what he needs to do.

“Lance, just listen alright? I haven’t been fair to you, at all. No, don’t try to make any excuses for me. You might think I’m an amazing leader, but I’ve been treating you so badly that you thought I was flipping _bodysnatched_ just because I complimented you.”

Shiro groans and rubs the bridge of his nose, grounding himself in the sensation of his fingers passing over both skin and numb scar tissue.

“That’s honestly beyond really bad, on my part. You’re… an amazing person, Lance.”

He pauses to look directly at his teammate.

“And I’ve been taking that for granted.”

Lance looks frozen, and suddenly breathing becomes a lot harder to do. His face feels incredibly hot, and the heat is somehow only building up more and more in his entire face and even in his neck and ears.

“Wh-what makes you say that?! Pidge and Hunk are both geniuses, Keith’s a piloting prodigy with the combat skills to match, and you’re the natural leader, the Black Paladin! I’m _nothing_!”

He slaps a palm over his mouth after the last part, then pouts and drops his hand.

“Um, don’t tell the others that last part, will you? I don’t want them to worry.”

He flashes another smile, bravado and his chameleon personality being the only weapons of his that can fight against the ridiculousness of this whole saving-the-universe thing. Shiro called him honest, but there’s a few more things he’s only planning on saying once he's six feet under.

Like out of his wildest delusions, before Lance can react, Shiro pulls him into a full-bodied embrace, one hand soothingly running a hand through Lance’s soft hair. They can feel each other’s heartbeats, and for some reason, when Shiro tries to more comfortably nestle their bodies together, Lance’s heartrate only increases. Is he still scared?

“Lance, you’re definitely really amazing, and I should’ve noticed sooner. I judged you right off the bat, and that’ll always be one of the worst mistakes I’ve ever made in my life.”

Shiro briefly mulls over his past, and his grip tightens around Lance.

 _Definitely_ one of the worst mistakes he’s ever made.

“You think fast on your feet when you have to, you’re an amazing sharpshooter, you always keep your sense of justice no matter what, the way you can just make friends right off the bat is amazing, you’ve been so strong despite being so homesick, and… you’ve always tried to keep everyone happy, haven’t you? I don’t think I could ever be that strong.”

“What? You’re just making that stuff up on the fly…”

Lance’ s voice shudders, and he struggles to hold back tears. He can feel Shiro’s warmth, can still feel that hand gently caressing his hair, and his willpower breaks. He dissolves into a mess of sobs and ugly crying, abruptly pushing Shiro back with one arm while his other hand wipes at his face. His eyes must be red and Shiro’s arms are still on his waist, but his head feels hazy and his heart reckless. The dream has come true, so that means he must be dead now. If he’s dead now, then who cares whether he reveals the secret or not, his confused mind decides using hastily slapped together logic.

Lance leans in and presses their lips together. There’s not even a kiss, but the intimacy and the meaning behind his actions are clear.

“Call it ‘hero worship’ or whatever you want,” he whispers hoarsely, “but… I’d like to think that that was me doing that.”

He drops his head and sighs, not watching as Shiro can’t even move from shock, when the moment of bravery finally passes by and fades away.

Sheer shock rolls through Lance’s body, and he quickly flings himself away from Shiro.

“I’m so sorry – forget about it!” he yells, running away for dear life from his own room. Shiro’s left behind, the feeling of lips and slim hips under his arms and wet ocean eyes still lingering in his mind.

 

A week passes, and Lance acts perfectly normal, or normal enough that everyone decides to bury the incident in their memories. He’s avoiding Shiro, that’s for sure, but his interactions with the man were already limited enough that it doesn’t seem out of place to anyone, except Shiro himself.

Lance is used enough to rejection and reckless confessions, and he bounces back fast. Rather, it’s Shiro who’s suddenly begun to slip. He’s taking more hits in training, spacing out sometimes, and the circles under his eyes are unmistakable.

“Shiro, what did you guys talk about?” Keith asks, frowning. “I thought you guys were gonna talk to make things better. He… He wasn’t wrong.”

Keith’s expression darkens for a moment, before he speaks up again.

“You almost always ignore him, and now it looks like you’re trying to talk to him any chance you get. You look worse off while he’s fine now.”

Shiro winces at Keith’s bluntness, but it’s also one of Keith’s good points too.

“If everyone noticed, why didn’t anyone say anything?”

“Because it’s Lance, I guess. He can laugh off anything and he’s the joker.”

Shiro groans softly.

“We overestimated him.”

“W-well, how can we even notice if he always acts like everything’s fine?” Keith points out, folding his arms.

“Because why would he, if he thinks we don’t care about him in the first place?”

Keith can’t reply to that as Shiro only worries more and more. Hunk notices, and he wanders over.

“You need to talk with Lance, right?”

“What? I already did, but-!” Shiro nods. “One more time.”

Hunk grins and motions for Pidge to come over.

“This is the least I can do, for not helping my friend more when he needed it.”

“Hunk, don’t blame yourself. We all know it’s mostly my fault,” Shiro sighs. He runs a hand through his hair. Lance’s silent confession is still running through his mind, and it’s as if he’s become hyperaware of his teammate. His smiles, his bravado, his reliability, the slim lines of his body – before what he barely noticed he now can’t stop noticing.

He’s falling in love.

And something like that is almost comically selfish.

 

“Thanks for helping to test my new recipes!” Hunk cheerfully says as Lance walks beside him.

“Dude, I’d be crazy to say no! Your food’s always amazing!”

“Well, you’ve also been my official taste-tester for the past couple years, so your feedback’s also really good, you know?”

“Ohhh, really?”

“Yeah, really!”

Lance sees Pidge at the kitchen entrance and waves her over.

“Dude, Hunk’s cooking! You know what that means!”

She nods, her face full of satisfaction and grins.

“Yeah, so it kinda sucks. Keith, now!”

Lance’s face twists up in confusion, and Hunk opens the door to the to the kitchen right as Keith kicks him in the back and into the room. Lance hurtles in, and Shiro yelps and frantically rushes over to catch him. The door slams shut, and a quiet whir sounds outside.

The door has been locked.

“Oh-! Quiznak!”

He pulls himself away from Shiro’s arms and runs to the door to fiddle with the unresponsive panel.

With a groan, he turns around to face Shiro, who looks surprisingly red. Well, he doesn’t blame Shiro, considering he got roped up into a scheme like this.

“Are you alright? That kick looked painful. I didn’t think they were going to be that reckless.”

Lance shakes his head.

“I’m just peachy. By the way… This whole thing is...?”

“I wanted to talk one more time.”

The words cut Lance, and he nervously walks in closer.

“About what happened before… You can just forget about it, alright? Rejection is a pretty good friend of mine at this point, y’know?” he jokes with a laugh and a wink.

Shiro tries to laugh too, but his face cracks, and the smile is painfully ingenuine.

Yeah, at this point, suddenly saying that he might also like Lance back feels like a pretty shitty thing to do after ignoring him for who knows how long. The broken smile makes Lance look crestfallen, and he picks at his nails.

“Sorry, I’ve been doing nothing but making things awkward, am I right? Is there… Any way we could go back to the way things were before?”

“You… you _want_ me to ignore you?” Shiro replies incredulously.

“No!” Lance exclaims, before he quickly restrains himself. “I mean, yes. I do! That was the status quo, right? And it worked.”

“But I don’t want that.”

Lance’s blue-black eyes widen and now they’re nothing but gorgeous blue pools, even under this artificial lighting, and even Shiro is surprised by what he’s just said.

He doesn’t want the status quo, where Lance shaves off pieces of his heart to keep the team lively while telling himself that’s all he’s good for. He doesn’t want to never know what Lance is thinking, double-guessing if those smiles are really smiles.

He wants the _real_ Lance.

And if that’s the case, then he should throw his own self-guilt out of the window for now. Let him deal with it on his own, and let him be absolutely sure for once that Lance is truly happy.

“I was thinking,” he starts, placing his hands onto Lance’s shoulders. “After you confessed, I started thinking more and more, and… Now… I wonder."

He doesn’t pause to see what Lance looks like right now, he simply kisses Lance on the lips, and hopes for the best when he opens his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> Hm... It's not my best work, but the idea was too delicious for me to pass up! :P


End file.
